


Trying to Orbit the Sun

by rujakcuka



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 16:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19176634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rujakcuka/pseuds/rujakcuka
Summary: Reiner damned himself for thinking Bertolt was really here when he was only a part of his dream.





	Trying to Orbit the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> this contains spoilers if you haven’t read the manga, particularly the marley arc.

A few days before Reiner tried to shoot himself in the head, he dreamed.

He laid down on a desert, his eyes gazing upon the countless stars in the sky, contrasted with the black void as their background. Although it was nighttime, his vision was very clear. It was like _the path_. It wasn’t everyday he could see some grand  views.

Except, it didn’t feel grand at all.

It was because he knew it wasn’t _the path_ ; his brain was working during his sleep.

“Oh, great,” he said unenthusiastically, “I’m alone even in my own dream.”

For a moment, Reiner truthfully felt grateful because it meant that nobody could said everything to make him feel bad, nor people could dictate him what to do. He could be himself, only himself, in his own dream.

(But it was actually himself, and only himself, who said anything terrible to make him feel bad and dictate himself what to do.)

Reiner then sat, running his fingers through his blonde hair to get the sand off it. When he looked down, he saw something very familiar—it was something from _that day_. He couldn’t even forget.

He was wearing the exact outfit he wore for _that_ battle.

His eyes felt hot and he began unconsciously biting his lower lip. He bit so hard the mark began to drip blood. Memories began rushing through his head and he could even feel the pain when his neck was stabbed, his head was blown off, and all his limbs were cut off. The scars weren’t even there but the pain hugged him like his mother would always do.

“Reiner,” came a voice from his left side. “Are you okay?”

He froze.

Slowly but surely the said man looked to the left. His hazel eyes trembled in surprise and his heart felt like it was ready to drop.

There he was, the tall man with black hair and green eyes. He was the same with him—wearing the exact outfit for _that_ battle. It was the same white shirt and black pants. Except for the blood gushing from his head’s right side, he was somehow normal. He even smiled nervously as usual; it was the very same action he used everytime as his coping mechanism.

Reiner immediately pulled his hands back when he felt them slowly raising up to touch Bertolt. His chest was filled with longing, thinking about how the man he missed the most was now in front of him, alive but not well.

Four years had passed since the battle in Shiganshina and the taller man hadn’t appeared in the form of his teenager body even once in his countless— _nightmares_ —dreams. Mostly he only appeared in nostalgic dreams, when it was only about training to be warriors and they were just children filled with hope.

Reiner damned himself for thinking Bertolt was really here when he was only a part of his dream.

Instead of touching his comrade, he asked, his index finger pointing to his own right side, “Bertolt,” his voice cracked and the person with aforementioned name could hear it clearly, “w—what happened to your ear?”

“Oh, this?” Bertolt did the very same gesture—pointing where his right ear previously was. He laughed shortly. “Mikasa cut it off when Armin was trying to negotiate with me.”

Nothing came as a response. They didn’t talk for a moment. Bertolt gazed upon the sky while Reiner was thinking about he wasn’t there when the black haired man fought their former friends.

He thought it must be terrifying, although he wasn’t even there to see.

After a few minutes had passed, Bertolt spoke, “Uh—umm—“ and it felt like Reiner was punched in the guts. “You look really mature.”

“Four years are very long.”

“I was trying to complement—“

“I fucking know it!” the blonde man impulsively stood up and Bertolt could hear his exhausted breath, “How am I supposed to react when you aren’t even there to look?!”

Bertolt actually looked at him but both of them knew the question was asked for something else.

Reiner was still standing up when he was asked to sit down again. He did.

Both of them looked up to the sky; the blonde man was filled with too much guilt to look at the man beside him. Even though he didn’t look, he just knew Bertolt didn’t express any form of hatred or regret on his face.

It was what terrified him.

“Reiner,” the taller man spoke again, “You’re exhausted.”

“I know.”

“... I’m sorry for being unreliable until the very end.”

“What the hell, Bertolt?” Tears began falling down his cheeks when Reiner wanted to think that it was a sarcastic remark, but no. “Give me a fucking break.” He knew very damn well it was a genuine apology and it made him feel lower than shit. He couldn’t even control his breath anymore. His heart ached when he remembered saying, “ _You’ve never been reliable_ ,” and it was one of his last words for Bertolt.

It made Reiner loathed himself more and more.

His eyes became blurry due to his own tears and Reiner felt Bertolt’s hands both on his shoulders, gripping tight but not strong enough to break them, trying to calm him down. The hands felt bigger, now that the blonde man oftentimes lost his appetite and it made him also lost weight.

The grip made him felt what Bertolt felt. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hatred.

It was a dream. It wasn’t what Reiner felt all this time... right?

“Reiner.”

His vision was still blurry and he refused to answer.

“Reiner.”

Bertolt’s voice saying his name was haunting. He still refused, showing by how hard he bit his lower lip again.

His ego was strong but his hurting heart won when Reiner snapped, “Do you have any idea how lonely and sad and clueless I am?! Do you know that living is far worse than dying for me?!”

Silence began filling the space between them. There was wind, sure, but it didn’t fly the sand off. They felt cold for some time. But the touch felt real like it was made of flesh—its owner’s.

The man with the white shirt pointed his index finger to the sky. Something came to his mind. He hoped Reiner could pay attention. “Look, there are some inevitable things,” he continued, smiling nervously despite the blood still dripping down to his neck. It was a wonder why the blood hadn’t stained his shirt yet. “Such as Mikasa cutting my ear off and this endless night.”

(And the fact that he had already gone.)

Noticing that Bertolt hoped for some answer, Reiner did give it. “But this night isn’t endless,” he answered, wiping the tears from his face. It felt damp and ugly. He felt ugly for snapping. “This is only a dream. Bet some days later it will be sunny.”

“That—that’s the idea,” his comrade looked at Reiner, one hand rubbing the back of his own neck and another still gripping his shoulder, “I can try to orbit the sun now, if you want.”

This sparked an interest in him. If he was his older self, Reiner would laugh hysterically and say that it was an idiotic move. Logically Bertolt couldn’t do it even if he was the _colossal one_ , but it was a dream, right?

So Reiner let the man beside him to continue, be it due to the interest or tiredness.

“You—you’re depressed because it’s always night, right?” Bertolt did continue and Reiner nodded, “Warm temperature coming after cold temperature feels good, right?” he nodded again, “I’ll try so we won’t have to—uh, umm—feel bad about everything.”

Reiner found Bertolt using _we_ , instead of _you_ or even _I_ , bitter. He wasn’t the one who felt awful. He nodded again.

His vision now became clear and he just saw Bertolt smiled wider than ever. Those green eyes gleamed with excitement and determination. He could feel all the burden began falling off his shoulders. He thought that the man beside him could actually do it.

It was only the two of them but Reiner didn’t mind the world where there was only them. Fighting everything to live seemed possible for him, now that Bertolt smiling in front of him gave him hope—something that he didn’t expect to have again.

Reiner felt like they were children again, with those enthusiasm and euphoria. He felt like Bertolt supported him as he would always do. He felt like wanting again to be that hero he had always idealized so everyone didn’t have to suffer.

He felt like wanting to bring him into his arms.

“Bert—“

He woke up.

* * *

Bertolt never came to his dreams again and it was indeed an endless night, so Reiner was thinking of meeting him again _soon_.


End file.
